To Love Your Magic
by Zapharina
Summary: ONESHOT. A little piece with my take on the MistoQuaxo duality and how the little tuxedo got his magic. MistoxQuaxo. Please Review, please! Warning: homosexual relationship.


It's quiet in the junkyard. Everyone is asleep in their dens or home with their humans by now.

He'll come soon, I can feel it.

Curled up in my pipe, I look out and wait. I don't mind, really…even a junkyard can look beautiful by the light of the moon. As the clouds steam past the moonlight is constantly shifting, glinting off different bits of metal in the yard, making the junk sparkle and shine.

Suddenly by the old car, I think I spot a little extra sparkle, more shine than the dusty metal should boast even by the brightest moon. I close my eyes and listen to the wind as it whispers through the piles of junk. There, for must a moment, the wind whispers my name softly in my ear. "Quaxo…"

A grateful smile plays on my lips as I open my eyes again. There, now, on the hood of the car. An extra bit of shine and shadow, just enough to let me know where he is. Eagerly I run over, skidding to a stop just in time to avoid colliding with the old metal. I close my eyes again, ears twitching in anticipation.

"Quaxo…" the wind whispers, closer this time. I hold my paws out, eager, searching.

"Mistoffelees…" I whisper back. I open my eyes just in time to see him appear.

I've known him since I was a kitten, but I never get used to seeing him materialize. At first there's just that glimmer of light that could be from the moon… but isn't. An extra shadow on the ground where none should be. But then, as I hold my paws out a cloud of sparks gathers around them, growing brighter and brighter as they form the outline of a cat nobody else has ever seen. That nobody else will ever see as I do. Mistoffelees.

He gasps a bit as he turns corporeal, his paws suddenly warm and heavy and solid on top of mine. With that ever-grateful smile he looks at me. "Thank you, Quaxo" he whispers, the voice of the wind gone solid. I look into those large black eyes, eyes that are always filled with stars. "You're welcome" I breath, all eagerness.

His lips are soft and warm as the summer breeze and I moan gratefully.

Magic is a wonderful thing.

I've always known him, but we haven't always been lovers. When I was a barely born kitten, newly orphaned and terrified, he appeared as a friend. I'd pounced on a bit of light and suddenly he'd been there, just as tiny as me. A friend when I needed one. He talked with me, helped me find the Jellicle's and their junkyard, but disappeared as soon as I got near the other cats. I thought at first that he ran away, but he kept appearing again. Always when nobody else was around, after I tried to catch a bit of light that didn't seem to belong there. I didn't question where he came from or where he went- I was just grateful that he always seemed glad to be around me.

We played together at night, when no one else was around. As I grew up a little and the others shunned me for dabbling in magic, he became my only friend. Still not understanding what he was, I thought he was just embarrassed to be seen with the little magician when others could see.

As we both grew a little older, a little wiser, the pieces came together. After I played with him, I could do magic for a little while. The longer we played, the more magic I could do before it failed me. One night as he appeared I grabbed his paws, confused. "My magic- it's from you!" I cried out, angry and sad. I didn't know what my friend was anymore, and I couldn't overlook his strange appearing acts anymore.

Mistoffelees shook his head sadly. "Your magic doesn't come from me." he whispered. "I am your magic." At that I backed away, batting at my ear anxiously. "What?" I asked, voice cracking. His shoulders drooped, that short black tail swishing behind him. "I'm not a cat, I'm not a magician…I'm _your_ magic" he said, voice terribly soft. "Why me?" I asked, whimpering.

He shrugged. "Because I'm a part of you. I'm not real until you touch me. I don't exist except for you." A tear trickled down his face as he looked at me. "Please don't make me go away" he begged, still in that whispering voice.

I bit my lip, trying to figure out what to do. When I looked up I saw him growing insubstantial. He looked like vapor about to be torn apart by a strong breeze. With a sob I embraced him, the only cat that ever let me hug him. He even felt shadowy, like I was trying to hug a cloud. "I won't make you go away" I cried, and he hugged me back. "Just please don't ever leave me!" I whimpered, holding tight. I could feel him grow more substantial, warm and solid and furry, and grateful tears fell. I had nobody else. I needed him in my life.

From then on I embraced my lot in my life. I learned what it was to be a magical cat. The more time I spent with Mistoffelees as we grew up together, the more magic I was able to retain. The two of us grew closer, and I grew stronger. The other cats shunned me for my dark arts, but those same arts got me a respect and protection that a runty orphan like me never could have gotten otherwise. My magic was my best friend in this world…in every sense. I hated my isolation from the others, but there was always my secret friend to comfort me at night.

Then I grew up a bit more, grew into the needs of a young tom. Mistoffelees grew with me. And in a very real sense…I fell in love with my magic.

It's hard to believe what he truly is as we press close together in my pipe. His fur is soft and smells sweet. He may sparkle with unreality, but his body is very real. His lips are swollen with kissing me as I look into his white face. The only hint that he isn't some other stray, that he's just a part of me is how similar we look. Brothers, twins almost.

I know he's my magic gone live, but all I care about is that he's here with me now. I beg for love, to be ravished by magic and he obliges. My magic loves me back.

Before he disappears for the night, he whispers softly in my ear. "Someday, when you're strong enough, I'll become a part of you forever. We'll be one, I'll disappear inside you. I'm your magic and I'll be with you always, so you can work your tricks whenever you want. And then…"

"I'll be alone!" I cry out, burying my face in his fur. He picks my chin up and looks deep into my eyes, wiping the tears away with a black paw. "No, Quaxo…" he whispers. "And then you'll be Mistoffelees." With a sob I realize he's fading away from me again His voice fades into the wind that's roaring through the junkyard, bringing a cold chill with it. I wrap my paws around myself, longing for the warmth of my Misto again. Wishing he was still with me.

The other cats sometimes wish they could work magic. They say magic is a wonderful thing. They don't know that magic is like love- it's wonderful, except when it hurts you. Then you wish you'd never known it.

Alone, I look out into the junkyard. I shiver again, and instinctively I mutter a quick spell so that a warm blanket appears in my pipe. Gratefully I curl into it. It's something. Looking out at the cold night again, I know it has to be enough. Because the day that my love can be truly with me all the time is the day he can't love me back anymore.

To be a magician is to love your magic. To be a true magician is to embrace it…and say goodbye.


End file.
